


The Butterfly Effect

by AwesomePlatypus



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: F/M, Fred and Gunn are just friends, I repeat no love triangle, This is the only change, Wes and Gunn are best friends, at first, it snowballs, there is no love triangle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-03
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2020-06-03 06:57:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19458760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwesomePlatypus/pseuds/AwesomePlatypus
Summary: What if Fred and Gunn never kissed, and Fred and Wes kissed instead? Things would probably change quite a bit, right? That one change, and suddenly the whole series is different. But how different?Alternatively titled: I Really Hate Love Triangles





	1. Clearing the Air

**Author's Note:**

> None of these characters are mine, obviously. Some of the dialogue is from the show, and therefore also not mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This first chapter is a re-imagining of the end of season 3 episode 6: Billy, which I think is the moment that defines Fred and Wes' relationship for most of the season. The dialogue up until "Well... then don't," is directly lifted from the episode. After that it's all me (except for "I don't know what kind of man I am anymore," and the first part of Fred's response, but, like, you gotta keep that part)

Fred stood in front of Wesley’s door, hands tugging at the ends of her sleeves. A part of her, a big part, just wanted to go back to her room and hide in the dark under her bed. She would wrap herself in her comforter, and pretend she was somewhere else. But she wasn’t going to do that. She’d walked the entire way here like she was fighting her body for control: a few steps forward, hesitate, look back, deep breath, repeat. 

She could do this. She’d been doing a lot better since she’d seen her parents, since she’d had to confront everything that had happened to her, but everything was still so much…

She needed to talk to Wesley. He hadn’t been to the office since Billy, and he hadn’t returned any of her calls… She’d made a lot of calls, maybe too many? Maybe she’d just been bothering him, maybe this was going to bother him… 

_Oh screw it,_ she thought, knocking quickly on the door and calling out, 

“Wesley? - Wesley, it's me, Fred.” He didn’t answer right away, and she internally debated the merits of calling out again versus calling this a moderately successful mission, having actually left the hotel by herself for the fourth time and having made it all the way here and it was hardly her fault if he… 

She heard someone fiddling with the lock, and then the door opened slowly. Wesley stood in front of her, blinking slightly at the light from the hallway. It picked him out in relief against the black backdrop of his apartment. 

He wouldn’t look at her directly. His hair was messy, and he hadn’t been shaving. Fred wondered if he was wearing the same clothes from that night, if he’d just gone home and sat in the dark for the past week. She knew that feeling, and she felt a pull in her chest at the thought of him huddled up all alone. She wanted to reach out and hug him, and the pull in her chest got stronger at the thought, but she worried about his reaction, so she didn’t. She just kind of… looked at him. Then she noticed that the shadow covering his face wasn’t entirely shadow. 

“Oh - does that hurt?” she reached out instinctively, but he pulled away, and she remembered why she was hesitant to come here in the first place. Interacting with others was never her forte, and after Pylea… But it wasn’t as if this was this would be an easily navigable situation for anyone, so she soldiered on, 

“Sorry,” she said, “I left a bunch of messages.” 

“Yes. I meant to call you back. I'm sorry.” He paused before saying again, softly, “I'm _so_ sorry.” 

Fred pressed on, certain that last bit was more for his own benefit than hers, “Wesley, you gotta come back to work.” 

“How can I?” he asked. 

“What do you mean? How can you not? You're the boss. We need you. - You took a few days off. That's good. We all did. - But now it's time to come back.” 

“Fred, I tried to kill you. Something inside me was forced to the surface. Something primal, something...” 

“Do you wanna kill me?” She asked. She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes as she said it. 

“Oh, God, no.” 

“Well… then don’t,” she said, stumbling around her words a little before regaining her footing, “So, so you tried to kill me, so what Wesley? Which one of us got stabbed with a nail and kicked in the crotch? Which one of us got knocked unconscious? It wasn’t me.” 

“Fred I…” 

“No, let me talk," she said. She was angry now. "You, and Charles, and Angel, you all see me as, like, this little girl that needs protection. ‘Silly little Fred,’ - not that I’m arguing with the reasoning behind that, I did hole up in my room for six months after you guys rescued me… But I also survived Pylea,” she paused for a second before continuing, more softly now, 

“I was alone. For five years. Five years, Wesley, five. I took care of myself then and I can do it now… I was just- for so long, and once I got here, I didn’t have to- I could just…” Her rant was starting to lose focus as she realised, she hadn’t actually come to him to rant, she’d come to check if he was okay and… Wesley took the opportunity to cut in, gently, 

“Fred, this isn’t about you. This is about… I don’t know what kind of man I am anymore,” 

“Well, I do. – You’re a good man.” she said, and continued, “Just because you could have hurt me? I could have hurt you! I did, actually. I looked down at your lifeless body, and for all I knew you could have been dead. I could have killed you, and I was scared that I had. Terrified, actually – but that’s not the point,” she corrected herself, reorienting, “The point is that you don’t want to hurt me, and if you do… I’ll knock you into next week,” she ended resolutely. 

Wesley chuckled softly at that, despite himself. 

“Will I see you back at the office tomorrow?” Fred asked, and Wesley looked at her for a moment. The look was thoughtful, like he’d realised something he hadn’t considered before. 

“Yes,” he said, “I’ll be there.” 

“Good,” She said, giving him a small smile, which he returned. She wasn’t really sure what to do then, but she seemed to have made a positive impact, and she didn’t want to backtrack and ruin it, so she left, and as she walked to the elevator, she heard the door click shut behind her. 

Inside his apartment, Wesley walked to the window and opened the curtains. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts? Feelings? Emotions? Criticism is appreciated. Thanks for reading!


	2. A Night at the Ballet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The AI gang spends a night at the ballet, but with a twist.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they said it would never happen. That's right folks, another chapter! And it only took... several months.

Fred played with her napkin in her hands, twisting it and tying it into knots. Charles sat opposite her in their usual booth at the diner, looking at her over their now empty dishes and occasionally craning his neck, looking for the waitress to give them their check.

“You know Fred,” said Charles, watching her fingers fidget, “You’re a remarkable woman, the way you can shovel a mountain range of food into your mouth.” He grinned at her. He was teasing her, she could tell.

“I just wish Wesley felt the same way,” she said, focusing on the wearing fibres of the napkin and not fully realizing she had spoken the thought aloud.

“He does,” Charles said, “ _Believe me_ ,”

“Really?” Fred asked, looking up at him and analyzing his face to see if he was still teasing. Wesley hadn’t seemed disinterested, but one could never be sure of these things, and she had yelled at him that night at his apartment, which must have been a turn off, and really what… The waitress appeared with their check.

“It’s on me,” said Charles, “You paid last time.” She assented and hung back at the door while he settled the bill at the register.

“If you don’t ask him out, I will,” said Charles, as they walked back to the Hyperion. Fred smirked,

“You’ll make a cute couple,” she said.

“I’ll ask him out _for you_ ,” he corrected, “For real, Fred, you guys can’t keep this up. It’s been months of glances and looks, and Wesley making moon-eyed comments about you as you hold baby Connor.”

“What kind of comments?”

“Nothing. Forget I said that. The point is, there’s only so much one man can take,”

“So you think he’ll ask me out soon?” she asked.

“I’m talking about me,” said Charles, “Watching you two make googly eyes at each other across the room is starting to wear thin.”

She rolled her eyes at him. He certainly had an imagination. Wesley only saw her as a friend, right? She would have noticed if he was thinking about her in that way. She started tugging on her shirt sleeves. If Charles was right…

“Ask him,” Charles whispered, opening the door to the hotel for her, she hadn’t even noticed they’d gotten back.

“I mean it,” he emphasized before turning to address the others, who were all talking in the lobby, “Morning friends and neighbours,” he said before focusing in on something in Angel’s hands “Oooh, are those the tickets? You got ‘em?”

Angel grimaced a bit and said, “Well, I got to the ticket place and…”

“I’m paying you back,” said Charles, cutting Angel off, “This one’s on me.”

Fred looked between Angel and Charles, sensing that Charles was about to be disappointed. “Morning,” she said, giving a little wave to the room, hoping it would ease the tension.

“Mahta Hari is the tightest band in LA. You guys are gonna be trippin’ out.” said Charles, still unfazed.

“The only thing is…” Angel began, but Charles took his shoulder,

“Look,” Charles said, a little more seriously now, “I said I’m good for it, man. Don’t worry about dippin’ in the Connor College Fund.” He took the tickets from Angel's hands and continued on, regaining his previous enthusiasm, “The time I saw Mahta Hari at the Troubadour they were the…” he looked down at the tickets and confusion washed over his face “Blinnikov World Ballet Tour? What’s going on?”

“I was trying to tell you,” Angel said, “I got to the ticket place and BOOM! Tonight only!”

They all started talking then. Charles was disappointed, Cordelia skeptical, Angel persuasive, and Wesley kept interjecting, trying to maintain order.

“I-I think it sounds exciting!” Fred said, in the middle of everything. The thought of a loud - rock?- concert was still a little overwhelming, but the ballet… sounded enchanting.

“Yes,” said Wesley, looking at her with a smile.

With that, they all came to an agreement, Charles begrudgingly. They would all go to the ballet, and Charles would not have to pay.

***

Fred stood in front of the mirror in her room, inspecting herself from all possible angles, appraising the dress she’d bought with Cordelia. It was red with little roses over it. Form fitting. She’d been worried before trying it on, that it would make her look like a stick, but Cordelia had assured she looked beautiful and she had to agree. Cordelia had also assured her that Wesley shared her feelings, but that she was less certain of.

She took one last look at her hair, which Cordelia had put up for her in such a way that she was sure she would never be able to replicate, and briefly considered setting up a mirror in front of this one and standing between the two so she could look at her back… but realized she was being ridiculous and quickly grabbed her purse and left before she really started overthinking.

Downstairs, she found Charles hiding in Wesley’s office,

“You got to promise not to laugh,” he said, and Fred had to suppress a giggle. It was reassuring that being stuck in Pylea hadn’t made her any more self-conscious than anyone else. Or at least, not more than Charles.

“I promise,” she said.

“It’s got to come from the heart,” he said, and she rolled her eyes,

“Will you stop being such a little girl? I said I promise.”

He walked out of the office, unable to meet her eyes but arms spread wide for her appraisal. She tried, she really did, she tried not to laugh, but soon the act of trying not to laugh was hilarious in and of itself and she couldn’t stop herself.

“This is what your promises are worth?” he asked, “I’m having a lot of trust issues at this time in my life.”

“It’s just – my god, you’re so pretty!” she said, giggling a little as she spoke.

“You know, there’s not a lot of people could say that to me and live, but you’re in such a good mood I’d hate to ruin it by killin’ you.”

“Tonight feels… I don’t know – kind of magical. Is that stupid?” she asked. 

“Not at all,” said Wesley, coming out of nowhere and draping her stole over her shoulders. He turned to face Charles, “Finally came out of hiding,” he said.

“And look at my reward,” Charles answered, gesturing to Fred.

She felt light, like she was a little drunk. Tipsy. She felt like she could do anything and didn’t know why. It may have had something to do with the way Wesley was looking at her though.

“Yes, she is a vision,” he said.

“A lot of that going around,” said Charles, looking up the stairs as Cordelia descended on Angel’s arm. Fred smiled at them walking down together, and then glanced over at Wesley, who was looking at her like she’d hung the moon. Yes, tonight was going to be magical.

***

Fred ducked as one of the masked creatures swung out at her, hitting the wall of the hallway as she avoided its blade. She knocked the creature round the head with a broken set piece she’d found, and it collapsed. With a moment to take stock of the situation, she looked over at Wesley and Gunn fighting the remaining creatures, and glanced down the endless hallway, wondering where Cordelia and Angel were in the maze of corridors beneath the theatre.

“Look out!” called Charles, pushing her out of the way as another one of the creatures came up behind her. The push left him momentarily vulnerable, however, and the creature managed to get in one good stab before he hacked at it, leaving him the one left standing, but with blood spilling from his left shoulder.

“Charles!” Fred cried and rushed to his side. She knelt down to examine him, leaning in close to get a good look at the wound. There was a lot blood, but the wound was superficial. He would be fine, _Assuming we ever make it out of this labyrinth_ , she thought. When she looked up, Angel and Cordelia were coming down the hall. 

“Fred, Gun!” Angel called as he got closer, then he paused, looking around, “where’s Wesley?” he asked.

“I- I don’t know,” said Fred, glancing around nervously, as if she could conjure him out of thin air just by thinking of him, which, given everything she’d experienced in the past six years, was entirely possible.

“He was just here,” said Charles, also looking around.

“We’ll worry about him later,” said Angel, and Fred was automatically against whatever plan he was going to propose.

***

The plan worked, naturally. The spell was lifted, the ballerina was freed, and the basement of the theatre was returned to, well, being a basement.

Wesley leaned back in his chair, eyes sore from reading for so long, he wasn’t quite sure of the time. Rarely did he get the chance to sink into research like this. The others had taken the day off to recover from the previous night, and he was glad for the opportunity, but something else kept pulling at his focus.

Fred and Gunn were together, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t seen it sooner, but the way she had rushed to him when she saw that he was injured, the way she leaned into him… it was obvious. The vision he’d had when he’d slipped down the corridor to give them some privacy, that had been all Wesley needed to know that it was for the best. The rage he’d felt, the jealousy at the thought of Fred being with another man. It was too familiar.

 _You’re a good man_ , she’d told him weeks ago, that night at his apartment. After Billy. But he wasn’t, he knew that. His father had told him as much, over and over again, through the door of that damned closet. His father was wrong though, he wasn’t a failure, but he was angry. So angry. Maybe it was his father’s words that had done it, or maybe it was just genetic, but either way it was only a matter of time before she found out, before she left him for someone better. Gunn was better, his best friend. He couldn’t blame her.

She’d spent the whole day with Gunn, and hadn’t even bothered to let Wesley know she wouldn’t be in. He leaned forward again, trying to focus on the words on the page in front of him, hoping for the solace it had brought mere moments ago, but his focus was broken now and he sighed, leaning back and rubbing his eyes before finally glancing at his watch. 6:30.

 _Well_ , he thought _I may as well go home_.

He sighed again and stood, stretching for a moment and then grabbing his coat. Fred was… well, Fred was wonderful, of course Gunn would see that too. Jogging up the steps to the door, Wesley resolved to at least attempt to be happy for them.

As he reached for the doorknob, a sound on the staircase startled him. Flinching a little at being taken from his thoughts, he looked up to see Fred standing hesitantly at the top of the stairs.

“Fred,” he said, surprised, “I thought you were…” he trailed off. Fred looked at him for a moment, obviously waiting for him to continue, but when he didn’t, she soldiered through.

“You seemed a little… agitated, last night,” she said, starting down the stairs, “I didn’t want to disturb you, so I spent the day working… in my room.”

“Working in your room,” Wesley said, unconsciously repeating her words under his breath, suddenly feeling a great deal better than he had before.

“I’m sorry?” asked Fred, stopping in front of him, “I didn’t hear that,”

“Nothing,” said Wesley quickly, “I, um, wasn’t,” he paused, and clarified, “Agitated, that is.”

“Oh. Well… good,”

“Yes, yes, I think so.”

“Well then, since you’re not… agitated. I was going to go get some food; would you like to join me?” she asked, hands behind her back, picking at the ends of her sleeves.

“Yes, I was just thinking I should eat something,” he said, and she smiled.

“Great!” she said, and he opened the door, gesturing for her to take the lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! Comments are appreciated. Maybe the next chapter won't take so long for me to post...


End file.
